Under the Burning Sun

By John W Fort

A young man, his wife and infant quietly leave their home village before it is discovered that he is a Dragon Child. They seek a Soul Healer, rumored to have the power to free those put under the dragon’s spell. He is an Intercessor, with no training in battle or the hunt. The highways between villages are not kind to the ill prepared. Their chances of survival are grim.

A Warrior banished to a desert island finds himself under attack from creatures that serve the dragon. He must protect the secret scrolls under his guard or the villages at home may be lost.

Though an ocean apart, the lives of the two men unite in the battle for freedom and survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: John W Fort
• Release date: Dec 31, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311168498

John W Fort

John W Fort is the author of three novels and one non-fiction book. He has an MST in Science Education, has lived in Brazil and speaks fluent Portuguese. John is notably hyperactive but manages to slow down just enough for others to communicate with him when absolutely necessary.

Book preview

✧

Erif gazed into the small pool, watching the image of a two-wheeled cart riding down a wide dirt road, carrying a young husband and wife and their newborn daughter.

Now they begin the hard part of their journey, said the snow-bearded spirit next to Erif.

What came before was not hard? asked Erif, Raef living among the Dragon Children in the Great Basin was not hard?

He is a Dragon Child himself, said the Great Spirit, he grew accustomed to it.

He left them, Erif replied, remember? He wanted to be free. And why are you arguing against Raef? You are the one who always advocates for him.

I do advocate for Raef, my Warrior friend. I am merely stating facts.

Erif watched Raef and his wife, Naan, as they traveled south down Midland road. Naan was patting their baby, Nine, consoling her for the dust and noise of the trail.

He never cut his hair, said Erif.

Why should he? asked the Great Spirit, Zul.

He abandoned his post as Keeper, disgraced his title as leader among his cast. He has no right to wear his hair uncut.

All Intercessors withhold the razor from their hair, said Zul, not just the Keepers.

No Intercessor deserves keep his hair after betraying his village, said Erif.

So claims the Warrior who has been banished to a deserted island, replied Zul.

Erif became silent—his heart pained at the rebuke.

This highway is not safe, the ancient spirit said, breaking the silence.

It is the only road south, they have no choice, said Erif, his voice subdued, Raef introduced his apprentice, Daz, to the dragon. And Rail took Daz to Black Rock, to live in the Great Basin. Raef knew he had to leave before anyone found out.

The villagers know nothing of the Great Basin and the Dragon Children, said Zul.

It matters not, said Erif, if the village ever realizes Raef was responsible for the disappearance of Daz, he will be arrested as a traitor. Daz had only thirteen seasons, scarcely a greenling. Though I wish Raef would show bravery and admit his treachery rather than run away.

Do you not realize that I planned for Raef to escape? asked the Great Spirit. That I am the one clouding the villagers’ minds so he is not discovered?

Erif stood and faced the Great Spirit, Why…why would you help a traitor escape?

He seeks a Soul Healer, said Zul, if Raef is arrested, he cannot find the only one who can free him from the dragon’s curse.

I do not understand why you continue to aide such an errant young man, said Erif.

Erif opened his mouth to continue his case with the ancient spirit, when he saw a group of horsemen closing in on Raef and Naan on the road. They were closing in very rapidly.

Zul! cried Erif, marauders!

I see them.

But, Raef is an Intercessor, he has no training in battle. They will be killed!

✧

PART I - BEREFT

CHAPTER 1

Raef heard rapid hooves closing from behind. He drove his own horse faster, bouncing the cart on the hard road. He leaned toward Naan as the invader approached. A blade sliced through Raef’s hair, yanking him back. He pulled free to see a handful of hair swirl away in the wind. Their cart was nearly surrounded.

A loud thwack caused Raef to look down and see a thick arrow stuck in the bench next to Naan. Raef pulled the reins to slow his horse. Three horsemen ran past. The looked back and saw two more closing from behind. His infant daughter cried out from Naan’s arms.

Raef, do something! said Naan.

His mind raced. He was no Warrior. He had never traveled the highways before, much less faced marauders. Their one-horse, two-wheeled cart had no chance escaping the five horsemen. His Intercessor training was of no help whatsoever.

A hooded man veered in front of them. Raef pulled the reins back.

Don’t slow down! said Naan.

If we hit him the cart will upset!

Little Nine was wailing now, adding to the confusion. Naan strapped the Nine to her chest with the baby’s blanket. Raef snapped the reins and aimed the cart left, around the man in front. At least the road was a wide and flat.

The lead horseman matched their new course.

Raef tried to speed around him to the right, but it was no use. Hooves thundered all around them.

Raef tossed the reins to Naan and turned in his seat.

I have never driven a cart! cried Naan.

Raef ignored his wife, who struggled with the reins. He nearly fell out of the cart rummaging for his sword.

I can die, he thought, Naan and Nine cannot.

His hand found the handle of the instrument. He rose to his feet, spinning in a circle and holding out the sword.

It was a small sword, compared to what the marauders carried, but his arms were long. He nearly nicked one man on the neck. Another, who was riding behind them, slowed his horse as his eyes grew wide. Raef could not hear him, but the man’s mouth formed the word, Intercessor.

Raef! yelled his wife.

Four of the marauders fell back. One made a dash forward, grasping one of the sacks in the cart. All five horsemen laughed and made for the brush.

Raef’s vision blurred and the sword clattered into the back of the cart. He trembled down onto the bench. The cart was slowing.

Raef?

He leaned into his wife as the cart came to a stop. Nine had miraculously stopped crying.

We were lucky, said Raef, as his vision and strength slowly returned.

What did they take? asked Naan.

Raef crawled into the back of the cart, opening sacks to see what was left.

A day of provisions is missing, he said, We had better find your Soul Healer soon.

We will, said Naan, I am certain of it.

Raef climbed back to the bench and took the reins.

I am not certain there is such a thing as a Soul Healer.

Hush! said Naan, of course there is. And he will free you from whatever curse you are under.

Raef’s lip began to quiver. He hardened his face to make it stop.

Naan, I was Keeper, remember? I had access to all the sacred scrolls. There are no records of such a healer. I know, I studied every scroll.

Naan looked stoically ahead, not answering her husband. She wrapped Nine a bit tighter then sat up straight.

Midland is not far now, she said, I have been there before, with Master Artisan, Matik. The road to Midland will be just ahead.

Toward the mountains?

No, it leads off to the right.

But the mountains, where the Soul Healer is said to live, are on the left.

Raef, I know of no city or village closer to these mountains. It is a place to start.

✧

A vaporous reptilian form loomed over Erif, lifting its head a dozen spans above the man. Erif held a long sword, nearly as long as he was tall, his hands low to his left while angling the tip to his right above his head. The smoky conjuration would have to go through the sword to reach him. The dragon’s head darted left, then right as Erif held his place. His arms bulged with the effort required to handle such a weapon.

The beast’s claw swept toward Erif. The Warrior leapt for it, swinging his blade down, cracking the dragon where talon met paw. The phantom pulled its claw back quickly, curling it under its belly.

Nicely done, said the ancient being who stood nearby, it would not expect that.

The dragon lowered its head, looking at its paw.

It would not do much damage, panted Erif as he lunged up, sinking the sword behind the beast’s jaw, but it gives me a moment to get a better strike!

The phantom threw back its head, rivulets of inky blood falling around Erif as the sword came loose. Erif stood back and lowered his sword as the beast stepped back. Then the vapor thinned and the image vanished. Zul strode slowly to his side.

That would set it back a bit, said the old spirit.

Not for long. Even with all this training I am still just one man. I will need help.

That is true, said Zul, wrapping his robed arm around the Warrior’s bare shoulders.

Is help going to be hard to find?

Zul grinned, So impatient. The future will arrive at its own pace.

But surely you know who will or will not assist me.

The old bearded spirit chuckled, Now, where is the fun in telling you that now?

Are you saying I am forbidden to know?

Zul smiled, patting the man’s shoulder.

Trust me, Erif. I am not leading you to failure.

Erif smiled.

Now, let us return to camp and fetch the scroll, said Zul, It is time to record more of Raef’s journey.

Erif’s smile faded as he sheathed his sword and strapped it to his stallion’s side.

Another vision? asked Erif, you know I dislike watching them.

As long as you remain banished on this island it is your primary mission.

I thought my training was my mission.

That is important, but writing the scrolls is most important of all. The scrolls will save more lives than your sword.

Erif mounted his steed and descended the hill where he had been training. He rode bare-back at a gallop to camp, which was near the beach. Zul was already there, waiting by the fire pit. Erif tied the horse, put the sword against some rocks, and opened the box where he kept the scrolls.

Looks like you need to make more parchments soon, said the spirit.

Yes, said Erif, an endless task with all the writing I’ve done.

Erif pulled a leather cylinder from the box, untied its end, and retracted a tube of parchment. Then he looked to Zul.

Where to, Great Spirit?

There is a clear pool just over this ridge, replied the spirit as he led the way.

Erif followed Zul over a sandy hill into a depression with a circular pool in the center. There was a solitary rock suitable for sitting beside the water. Erif was certain neither the pool nor the rock were there before. He sat on the rock and unrolled the scroll to the place he had left off. He then put a small inkwell he had made from a hollowed stone and a pen he had made from a gull’s feather.

The Great Spirit moved his hand in a circle over the pool and the water became clouded, then cleared to reveal Raef and Naan riding their cart between the shop stalls of Midland.

✧

It is very noisy here, said Raef.

Raef, this is a market. What did you expect?

Reaf looked down on his wife, who was smiling. She had always liked commotion. He did not.

Looking in all directions he could not see beyond the rows and rows of merchant tents.

I have never seen so many merchants in one place, said Raef.

Midland is a city of trade. Half the city is nothing more than a bazaar. There are merchants from half the Province here selling their wares.

I was expecting more buildings, said Raef.

Those are on the far end of the city, where the permanent inhabitants live.

Raef looked down the rows—other than a single barn he could see no wooden structures in the distance. He wondered what other fascinating places Naan had visited before they met.

We should get started, Raef said, We can tie up the cart over at that stable. You take Nine and go south. I will go west and see what I can discover.

It was midday when Raef and Naan parted. He asked locals and visiting merchants alike whether anyone had heard of a Soul Healer who lived nearby. No one had heard of such a thing.

Raef eventually found the homes of Midland. These homes were wooden plank structures, not the earthen walled huts of his home village. Even the roofs were mostly wood, rather than grass thatched. Some were quite large, more like lodges than family homes. It was hard to fathom so many with the wealth to live in such a fashion.

He was intimidated to call from the street to summon the owners of such structures, but he gathered his courage and did. Most gave him odd looks when he mentioned Soul Healer. When the sun began to set he returned to their cart and found Naan waiting.

I have had no luck, said Raef.

Neither have I, said Naan, These people have not been particularly friendly. I had forgotten how cold city dwellers are.

They had last meal using their provisions, then paid the stable master to feed their horse. Raef brought the cart behind the barn and began to rearrange it to sleep in.

What are ya doing there in your cart, fine sir? asked a young stable hand who had sauntered up.

Preparing to sleep, said Raef.

Here in the stable? Sir, there are inns to sleep in.

We have no money for that, said Raef, we can stay here.

But sir, the greenling responded, you will not wish to sleep here behind the stables. It is noisy and foul.

Less noisy than the streets of your city, said Raef.

The greenling craned his neck to look up at Raef.

We are simple village folk, said Raef, We do not require much.

The young stable hand scratched his head and looked around in a circle. There was unease in his face.

Naan came to Raef’s side and combed her fingers through his hair all down his back.

My hair, he said, I forget it gives me away, even without my Intercessor robe.

He turned back to the greenling, who was now looking meekly up at him.

I pray I have not offended sir in some way, said the greenling.

I was an Intercessor, it is true, said Raef, but I have left my village and am no longer serving such a function. I am not offended to sleep among the horses.

Ya was? I am not understanding, sir. How can ya be and then not be?

Raef smiled. One cannot change the class they were born to, unless perhaps a woman by marriage. He could not expect a simple Laborer, much less a greenling, to understand.

I may look like an Intercessor, with this hair, but I am not.

The greenling looked uneasy, but nodded. Then he turned and vanished into the dusk.

Naan hugged Raef’s side and he put his arm around her.

You will always be an Intercessor to me, she said.

I feel the Keepers would not agree with you, he said, I do not know what I am now.

Raef erected a tent over their cart and they entered to sleep. Nine cooed and tugged on Raef’s hair, and he smiled down on her. They were nearly asleep when a voice called for them.

Raef poked his head out of the tent to see who it was. The greenling stable hand stood a few paces away, his arms full of hay.

For you and your missus, sir. Fresh hay for sleeping.

Thank you, said Raef, reaching out to retrieve the gift. He was already in his night robe and did not wish to come outside.

My master asked for you to have it. He wishes you well.

Then he would be the first in Midland, muttered Raef.

Raef! said Naan from inside.

Tell your master I give him my blessing, said Raef.

Yes sir, said the greenling, sleep well.

CHAPTER 2

They left Midland City at sunrise, reaching the highway before the sun reached quarter sky. Reaf had learned the highway headed south directly to Salt Marsh near the ocean, which was beyond the mountains. Other than leaving the cart and walking through the brush the only hope to reaching the mountains was to go back north the way they had come. There was another road, Darkwood Trail, that ran east that might curve around toward the mountains.

Raef fumed silently at the wasted suns they had spent searching. Naan held Nine and patted Raef’s hand reassuringly. He looked at Naan and his heart sank. The likelihood they would find a trail to the mountains was slim. That they would find a Soul Healer was even less.

Naan, I am going to try, but I have to be honest. I really do not think I can overcome whatever the dragon has done to me. I have tried everything already.

Zul will help you.

The Spirit? He does nothing! I have meditated to him as long as I can remember, done all the ritual washings, participated in every ceremony. All for naught. I was a Keeper, for the love of the Province, and not even that helped.

"Well, I believe